“Maybe you won’t have to do anything.” Nick’s smile is so drenched with worry that it doesn’t have the effect he was probably hoping for. “Cody said they’ve been busy all day, setting up more cameras and hiring more security. Jay even got sensors for the doors to detect weapons or bombs.”
“Bombs? Are you serious?”
“When you think about it, it would be the easiest way to take everyone out. But Cody says that’s not how Wolfsheim usually does things. He says Wolfsheim will try to talk first. And they’ll want Jay alive.”
Why does that sound worse than them wanting him dead? “Um, why do they need him alive? Not that I’m complaining…”
“They need Jay to tell them where he stored all his research, including the stuff he uses to ease the vampire transformation,” says Nick. “They’ll want to destroy it all, so no one can use it again. But Jay keeps it hidden. Could be at the mansion, but maybe not. They won’t kill him until they find out where it is.”
“Well, aren’t you a fount of information.” I slump in my seat, a little miffed because I’ve barely heard from Jay all day—which is fine because I know he’s been busy—but I’ve been worrying and pacing and wondering for hours, while Nick was apparently in constant contact with Cody, getting all the juicy details. Beyond a few messages about our backup plan, which involves my voice and an inordinate number of earplugs, all Jay texted me was “Rest up” and “Are you sure you should come tonight?” which was his delicate way of suggesting I stay at home without actually saying “Stay at home.”
“What about you?” I ask Nick. “Are you turning into a vampire?”
“I’m not sure. Cody and I have talked about it, but I like my sunshine, and I’m kinda squeamish about blood. You know how I get during horror movies. I don’t mind Cody drinking from me—it’s pretty hot—but as for drinking blood myself, I don’t know. No offense, Jordan.”
“None taken.”
“The blood-drinking thing is kind of hot,” I murmur to myself, but of course Jordan hears, and she casts me a smirk over her shoulder.
“Maybe you’ll have time for a quickie when we get there.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Oh my god, stop. I’m not screwing Jay when his mortal enemies could show up any minute.”
Thankfully Jordan doesn’t have time to say anything else, because we’ve arrived.
Jay’s house is an explosion of lights, a defiant blaze against the pink-and-orange sunset. Jordan navigates to the back of the house through archways of sparkling lights curved over the drive, and then the valet takes over while she, Nick, and I walk up to the entrance. It’s early, and we’re among the first to arrive, because we have no idea when Wolfsheim and his crew will show up, and we have to be ready.
I kind of wish I was already a vampire, because I have a very human fear of bodily harm—but I’ll be bedridden for a week during the change, and there’s no way I can sit this out. I can’t be lying in bed puking while Jay is here with his people, fighting for his life.
As we circle the house and head to the back, I notice the arches installed over each doorway. They’re painted with gold and heavily embellished, but once we’re out of the car and walking in, I can tell that they’re only frames hiding some kind of metal detector or scanner. There’s no annoying beep when people pass through, but a few guys in suits flank each archway, and one of them holds a tablet, looking up from it now and then to inspect the people entering the party. Right before we reach the arch, a burly guard pulls a man aside and makes him turn in the handgun under his jacket. The gun guy isn’t a vampire, just some redneck who thinks it’s cool to tote his piece everywhere. He makes a fuss, but the guard with the tablet pays no attention. As Jordan, Cody, and I pass through, his eyes flick from us to the tablet screen and back. He gives Jordan the slightest nod, acknowledgment of her status as one of Jay’s vampires.
The music that rolls through the house and grounds is different tonight—sweeping, epic, the stuff of fantasy shows and blockbuster movies. It makes me feel tall, and splendid, and important, even though Jordan is way taller than me and Nick. She glides ahead of us, apparently not nervous or frightened at all. She even kisses her fingers playfully and wiggles them at a cluster of girls she knows. Nerves of steel, that one. I wish I could say the same. I keep swallowing, trying to moisten my cottony mouth and throat.
“Gonna talk to my girls,” Jordan says. “Join you in the dance hall in a bit.”
She sashays off. I’d love to take a photo of her right now, with the gold chains dripping down her spine and those angular shoulder blades setting off the sweeping purple glory of her dress. The need to capture that image spikes inside me, oddly strong.
Maybe I should take a photography class sometime. Or an art class. Eventually I’m bound to find something I love, right? A career option beyond “traveling and hanging out with people,” which is not viable for collecting a paycheck. Maybe art could be my thing.
If I live through the night.
“I need a drink.” I clutch Nick’s arm, and because I can’t be alone with my nerves, I add, “Come with me?”
“Sure, precious.”
But as it turns out, we don’t have to find a drink station, since costumed servers are circulating with medieval-looking goblets and tankards on trays. It’s a tiny bit too Renaissance faire for my taste, but the decor elevates the vibe—huge urns of fresh flowers, neatly shaped boxwood trees in every corner, tapestries hanging from the balustrades, and greenery twined around the light fixtures. There are actual suits of armor, sans weapons, and statues gilded with gold paint placed here and there. I touch one experimentally, and it’s surprisingly lightweight.
“Styrofoam,” Nick says. “Like they use for plays and movie sets. Cheap and effective.”
“Jay must plan these things weeks in advance. Think of the time and the expense.”
“Hey, as long as I get to attend, I’m not complaining.” Nick swallows a huge gulp from his tankard. “Come on, let’s find our men.”
It’s not tough to pick them out, since the interior is still mostly empty, with just a sprinkling of guests. Cody and Jay are standing beside the open double doors of the dance hall, directly in front of a royal tapestry of scarlet and sparkly gold, imprinted with a random coat of arms. They’re both dressed in dashing princely outfits—Cody in dark green and Jay in blood red. Jay even has a gold band around his head, nestled in the brown waves. I swear it’s like he’s trying to say, “I am the leader of the new generation of vampires. Come and get me.”
Maybe that’s exactly what he’s doing. Painting a target on himself to draw attention away from his people.
Cody steps forward, sweeping his velvety green cape aside and bowing to Nick. “I’m being banished to the security office,” he says sourly. “Come with me?”
“Sure,” says Nick. “But why?”
“Because I know what Wolfsheim looks like.” Cody takes Nick’s drink and tosses back a swallow of it. “Jay insists I sit there and watch the security feeds. I’m to let him know if I spot my fucking progenitor. It will be incredibly boring, but if you come along, I suppose it will be bearable.” He returns the drink and squeezes Nick’s shoulder.
Nick gives me an apologetic look. “Will you be all right, Daisy?”
“Sure. I’ll be with Jay.”
“All right then.” Nick waves and lets himself be towed away.
With a deep breath, I face Jay. His jaw is tight with anxiety, and he stands rigid, like a doll posed in place. But his eyes soften when I meet them, and he reaches for me. “You look beautiful.”
“You too.” I sidle in close and whisper, “Are you standing here waiting to be shot or beheaded? Because you look ready for the firing squad.”
He chuckles faintly. “All my people will be gathering in the dance hall. That’s what I told everyone in the messages I sent out today.”
“And you explained about the earplugs?”
“I didn’t exactly tell them about you, if that’s what you’re asking. I just gave the order to be prepared and said there might be a powerful sonic weapon involved.” He sucks in his cheeks, avoiding my eyes.
